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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24276577">Stacy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MissAn0nymus'>MissAn0nymus (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Creepypasta - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:42:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24276577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MissAn0nymus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a break in leaves her catatonic from being raped and her hand broken, Stacy must learn to grown from her experience... but he, and his friends, keep coming back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Cuz Stacy's Mom… has got it goin' on!" My obnoxious friends sing over the video call, very much out of sync.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good. Night." I enunciate, hanging up. I now head downstairs for a cup of water, when I hear a crash. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I peek my head around the corner of where I heard the sound and see 2 of my chairs laying on the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Walking over, I set them upright, only to turn around and immediately have a hand cover my mouth. "Mmh!" I attempt to step back, only to realize that he had also his hand on the back of my neck, keeping me close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don't fight, I don't scream, I just stand there, staring at the figure in front of me. His eyes are black with even darker rings surrounding them, his skin a ghostly white, and his smile… the smile carved into his face… it will haunt me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slowly releases my mouth, only to twirl me around and place a knife to my throat. I'm so happy I could cry. A laugh will have to do for now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What's so funny?" His low, gravelly voice asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I have a death wish. I'm the type of person to dance in a lightning storm with a wire hanger. Death </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>scare me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He traces the tip of the blade over my collarbone. “Then what does scare you…?” He trails off, then cuts a line into my skin, making me call out in pain. His smile grows, like he has an idea. His hand releases me. "Take off your clothes."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shake my head. Growling, he bends me over my table and stabs his knife through my hand and into the wood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My scream echoes through the country home I love, his laugh soon following.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the edge of my panties from under my oversized T-shirt, he rips them from my body in a single fluid motion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"P-Please! No!" I beg, trying to reach over so I can pull the knife from my hand, but his attack left me weak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rubs his tongue over the exposed parts of my virginity, as if trying to force me to be aroused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His tongue plays with me for a little bit, before he stands up and unzips himself, renewing my fear and efforts of escape. Before I can even get my hand to the knife, his engorged member is pounding into me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My throat soon hurts from the sobbing and screaming I put it through. His merciless pounding sends wave after wave of agony through my body, his thrusts not stopping… until… He thrusts the deepest he has yet, his hot seed spilling into me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After he's done panting, he grabs the handle of the knife and yanks it from my flesh, letting me collapse to the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he's not done yet. He lays me on my stomach, then kneels on my sore back before carving several words into my back's flesh. As he steps away, he stomps hard on my hand.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I'm partially aware of what happens next. I know he left. I know one of my friends came over the next day. I know the ambulance wheeled me away… but it's foggy. Like an old memory I can see, but can't grasp.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Screaming, I sit up in the bed I currently reside. It's… a hospital bed. I sob, which releases the floodgates. Soon, a nurse enters the room and calms me down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, now that you're not hysterical, can I send the police in?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I nod, not looking at her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The door can be heard opening, and 2 sets of shoes walk in, one walking out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t do anything stupid, or your family’s dead.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I can hear his voice echo in my head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss Jefferson? Miss Jefferson. Miss Jeff-” My eyes dart upward as I’m torn from my memories. “I’m Officer Blake and this is Detective Monroe.” The detective waves a little hand, finishing writing a note.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I nearly start crying.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is everything alright, at this moment?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“H-He had said t-to not do anything st-stupid, and I-I don’t know what he would mean b-by that, so what i-if I do something stupid and he hurts me ag-again?” I begin trembling. “What if h-he’s watching me ri-right now?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss Jefferson, please remain ca-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stacy!” A voice calls from the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I look up and see- “Mark?” I nearly burst out crying, holding my arms out for a hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Seeing me so distressed, he nearly drops his coffee running to me. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s okay.” In his arms, I immediately begin relaxing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He releases me, then goes to grab and squeeze my hand, like always, but, seeing the gauze and tape covering it, he squishes my upper arm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Moving to the other side of the bed, he rubs my arm gently.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As we were saying, we need you to answer a few questions for us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I nod as the invasive questions are asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After nearly an hour, they finish questioning me. “Thank you for your time. The scene will be reopened tomorrow afternoon. That’s also when you’re getting discharged.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I nod, solemnly, watching as they walk out.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey, guys?” I ask the people at the table I’m sitting at.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” “What’s up?” “What do you need, sweetie?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can… Can you guys stay at my place tonight, since it’s my first night back and I-?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” The 3 people sitting with me state in unison, then giggle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And so, after we’re done eating ice cream at our local ‘creamery’, we head to my house. Entering, everyone’s laughing and having a good time. All the evidence had been cleaned up and my floor and table had been sanitized… but there’s still a groove where his knife had held me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>We sit at the table like normal, but I’m staring off, tracing my finger up and down the gouge in the table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stacy!” Megan yells, making me jump nearly out of my chair, holding my arms up in defense. "Stace… we didn’t mean to…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I-Its okay. Just don't do it again." They agree and we continue with the chat, slowly shifting to nostalgic memories.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, and that little doll that we all wanted but only Mark could afford?!" Briana asks, nearly laughing so hard soda comes out of her nose.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After several hours, we all head to my room, me on my bed and the other 3 on the floor or the chair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone else goes to sleep with ease, but I spend until 2 in the morning staring at them. Eventually, I get hot in my bed, so I head outside to cool down…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A hand grips my throat and pushes me against the wall of my house, pinning me there. I open my eyes and it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, beautiful. How's your hand treating you?" He asks in his low voice. Once he releases my throat, I collapse to my knees, coughing and holding my neck. "Sorry about that… I just had to make sure you didn't run." He says, without a smidge of apology in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I lift my good middle finger, signalling I don't want him here, but he's not having it. He grabs my appendage and bends it painfully, pulling a pained gasp from me. "I'm sorry!" I manage.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He releases me and I cradle the finger against my chest. "Better."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I glare my hardest at him, only for him to backhand me with zero effort, my head recoiling from the impact. I look up at him with teary eyes. "What do you want from me?" I ask, no louder than a whisper.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"... I'm going to be real with you, here… I want someone to love me."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I laugh. "You're a monster… no one can love you." I stand by my words, even after he kicks me in the abdomen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Remember who you belong to. You're nothing more than a whore, </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>whore." He smiles a real smile. "Or have you forgotten those words I carved into your back?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I whimper slightly. </span>
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>PROPERTY OF JTK</span>
    </em>
  </span>
  <span> is written into my back, underlined with the same knife.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I </span>
  <em>
    <span>suggest </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you shut up and do what I say.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I nod slowly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He takes off his belt, unzips his pants, and takes himself out. “Suck, whore.” I shake my head and he backhands me so hard I fall from my knees right onto my ass. “You’re wasting my time. If you don’t start soon, I’m going to kill those little friends of yours upstairs.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I don’t hesitate, I’m back on my knees, grabbing his cock within my hands. I bring it to my lips and pause, before bringing it inside and gently sucking on it, looking up in search of confirmation I’m doing good. He rolls his eyes and grips my hair, before forcing my head all the way to the base of his member.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I can’t breathe with the forign object in my throat and I’m gagging, but my love for my friends is so strong, I just take it. For now, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> his whore. And to save my friends, I’m okay with that. After a while, he lets me up for air, allowing me to breathe for a few seconds, before bringing me back to not breathing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he tires of my actions, he lifts my head, only to drag me to my lawn chair. He sits down on the armless chair and sits me on his lap, straddling him. I sob and shake my head, but he doesn’t listen, simply lifting me up by the hips and rests me on the only dick I’ve ever taken, stretching me out painfully.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ride it.” He growls, seemingly close to orgasm, but I start lifting myself up and allowing myself to drop, pumping it with my cunt. It doesn’t take long, however, for him to force me up and down until his hot jizz is sent right into my throbbing, no longer virgin hole.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I sob, then slowly lift myself off of him, standing on shaky legs. He stands and makes himself decent again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t call this in. Don’t go to the hospital until I say so. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t approve of. And DON’T tell anyone what happened. Now… go take a shower before your friends notice you’re gone.” He says, then disappears into the night.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s been weeks since he’s come over. Weeks of me constantly looking over my shoulder. Weeks of me being in constant fear. Today is the first day of lessons from a private instructor. He’s a professional MMA fighter, or at least he was. He retired when he had broken one too many bones.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, again.” He says as I answer the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I smile a fake smile. “Come in, George!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he steps across the threshold, I get a sense that something horrible is going to go wrong, but I ignore it. We set up in my basement and he begins teaching me how to fight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, something that’s a common misconception is the whole ‘keys between your fingers’ thing because if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> do that, your hand would be broken… again.” He knows what happened to me, so he doesn’t say something that might trigger me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When we spar, I’m taken down SO easily. And when he ends up partially on top of me, I can’t help but laugh, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> laugh. “Your laugh is beautiful.” He helps me up and, while I’m genuinely smiling, a pained expression and a sickeningly wet sound comes from him. He drops, revealing the hooded killer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I let out a quick scream and back up, each step I take from him, he gets 2 steps closer, then, my back hits the wall. I tighten my eyes and face away, but he grips my chin and forces his lips on mine. Quickly after, he throws me to the ground, my head slamming into the side of the washing machine. I groan softly, the hooded killer rolling me onto my back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ngh! Let go of her!” George yells, in pain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I turn my head and see him dragging himself by his arms towards me. "No, you have to escape." I say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man on top of me gets off and walks towards George, who sneers at the Hooded Killer. I slowly stand and, after steadying myself on my feet, I dart to the stairs, </span>
  <em>
    <span>somehow</span>
  </em>
  <span> able to slip past them. Grabbing the phone and locking myself in the bathroom, I dial without thinking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“911, what’s your emergency?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The hooded Killer’s at my house, and he stabbed my trainer.” I say in a rush. “He pushed me and I hit my head, and-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Slow down. Where are you, what’s your address?” I give it to her. “Okay, an officer should be there in 5 minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>BANG BANG BANG.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Stacy.” His voice growls low, but kind of… playful at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to go…” I say into the phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ma’am? Ma’am! Don’t hang up the-” I press the end call button and stand, right as the door flies open. He looks pissed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I’m sorry.” I say quickly, putting my hands between us, house phone still in my right one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No you’re not. If you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry, you wouldn’t have done it.” He takes a step towards me and I flinch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I d-didn’t mean to make you u-upset.” I ask, “Wha-What are you going to do, Mr. Killer?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“None of this ‘Mr. Killer’ bullshit. My name’s Jeff, and I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>going</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be called it, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> are going to lose a toe, you whore.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have a name, too, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He glares. “Keep up the mouth and you’ll lose teeth.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It closes with a click.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Now… How long until they get here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“5 minutes.” I say quietly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He nods, then approaches me, looking calm. I just now notice the fresh bloodstains on his hoodie. His hand cups my cheek and I whimper softly. “You understand that I have to punish you, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>I look down and nod, but he grips my chin tight and hisses, “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> at me when I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>speaking</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He looks disappointed. “I’m going to kill one of those friends of yours. You decide who.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>My mouth hangs open for a moment before he shuts it for me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I can’t decide which one of my friends </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then they all die.” He growls.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“... Briana… if you have to.” I eventually state. He nods and exits out the back,right as sirens are audible.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>